Hot Venom
by megstenn
Summary: Rob and Kristen meet in an unlikely circumstance and connect immediately, but will they be able to handle what life gives them? AU, Rob's a painter, Kristen's a dancer. Completely Robsten, will be fluffy. Rated M for lemonade.
1. Ch 1:  Kristen

**Disclaimer: This fanfiction is completely made up and imaginative. I own nothing. This is completely AU. This has been created solely for the purposes of reader enjoyment and author creativity.**

_For Joey, the Alek for my Carina. Love you, bb. c:_

The sun was bright as I stepped out of the grocery store, but I couldn't block its rays with my hand, as both of my arms were occupied by two large brown bags filled nearly to the brim. I squinted my eyes and gripped the bag tightly with my fingertips, walking out past the small parking lot and onto the narrow sidewalk. I mostly kept my head down, watching my feet to make sure I didn't step on anything that would send me sprawling out onto the cement; I'd always been a bit clumsy. However, I felt my front pocket vibrate and so I walked a bit slower, shuffling the bags into a firmer hold as I fished my cell phone out of my pocket. Carefully, I held the phone between my thumb and my forefinger, squinting down at the dark screen. One letter at a time, glancing up every now and again, I began typing in a response. But being the accident prone human that I am, I felt the bag that was gripped in my right arm slowly slide out of my grasp. Too late, I winced as I heard the crash of TV dinners and macaroni and cheese boxes hit the ground.

I watched as a loaf of bread tumbled almost four feet away from me. I set the other bag quickly down on the ground, getting down on my hands and knees, my palms pressing into the hot cement. I felt my cheeks burning furiously as I began to gather up the food closest to me. A box of raisins, two TV dinners, bananas.. I piled them all into the empty bag, keeping my head ducked to the passersby. Ashamedly, I reached out for the loaf of bread, but brought my arm back immediately once I saw another hand holding the bag gingerly, careful not to press to hard. I bit the inside of my cheek, looking up from where I was for a split second. I only processed a couple of things in that first glance. Messy, golden blonde hair and a set of shining blue-green eyes.

My cheeks were still hot as I used my arms to push myself off from the ground, picking up the bags on my way up. I smiled shyly as my eyes locked on the most beautiful features I had ever seen on a man. His jaw, looking like it was chiseled by Michelangelo, his chin dimpling only slightly. Perfect, soft looking lips were spread over a small, almost embarrassed smile. His golden hair drooped on his forehead slightly. But I was constantly pulled back to his eyes. They were the same shade as the ocean, the blues and greens and grays blending perfectly to create a color that couldn't be described by any human words.

I blinked, rushing back to the real world. My cheeks flushed, embarrassed. He ducked his head a little, running his hand through the soft looking hair that hung in front of his eyes. I suddenly wished I could do the same. I bit my lip instead as he looked up again. His eyes flashed wide for a moment.

"Oh! Right!" He reached over and gently placed the loaf of bread in one of the bags. I smiled, laughing a little. He joined in, a soft chuckle emanating from his chest. "I'm Rob, by the way." His arm shifted up slightly, as if he was going to hold out his hand for me to shake, but then he lowered it, tucking his hand in his pocket. His smile was soft, welcoming.

"Kristen." My voice sounded rough compared to his, and I'd instantly wished that I hadn't said anything, that I'd simply ducked my head and walked away. But rethinking, there would have been no way I could have just left. Not with that perfect set of eyes pulling me in.

"Well, Kristen." I noticed his accent. He sounded British..but maybe it was Australian? How do you tell the difference? "Could I..erm, help you with that?" My eyes flicked down to his hands, which were motioning to the bags in my arms. I opened my mouth, but couldn't find any words. I snapped it shut quickly, nodding with a small smile. His smile brightened. He helped me shuffle one of the bags into his arms. At that point, I had no idea why I was leading someone to my house, taking a stranger to the place where I lived. But for some reason, I couldn't turn him down.

He was charming, witty, sarcastic. He flirted in an almost non-chalant way, but as I hadn't experienced much in my past relationships, he wasn't pushy about it. After a particularly humorous banter about the quality of the Harry Potter movies versus the books, his eyes changed demeanor. Serious now, only a trace of shimmering comedy left.

"Okay. If you were given one day to do anything you ever wanted, what would you do?" I wanted to say something funny, something clever. But sadly, humor had never quite been my forte. So I stuck to my strength: being honest. I rubbed my neck, looking up at the sky contemplatively.

"Hmm..well I would probably spend most of my day dancing," I smiled shyly over at him, watching as his eyes grew wide again.

"Dancing? Like..this kind of dancing?" He demonstrated, pursing his lips and fist pumping with his free arm, _Jersey Shore_ style.

I laughed, shaking my head. "No..but that was cute." I nudged him softly with my shoulder, smiling at him. He shrugged up his shoulders, that adorable embarrassed smile spreading across his lips again.

"Hm. Cute. Because that's what I was going for." He grinned, nudging me back. I liked this playful thing that we all ready had with each other. It was different than any relationship I had had in the past, it was..fun. Easy. He furrowed his eyebrows a bit now. "But seriously, what kind of dancing?"

I raised one arm above my head, lifting my chin proudly, and stood on demi-pointe (on tip-toes). "Ballet." I smiled shyly, lowering my arm quickly, ducking my head and running my fingers through my hair again. I glanced over at him, peeking through the thin veil that hung between us that was my hair. He was grinning in the most adorable way possible, his smile just crooked enough to break my heart a bit.

"Now _that_," he said, pointing to me, "was cute."

I blushed, avoiding his gaze again. How could someone I had just met make me so unsure of myself, give me so many butterflies? I had always been known as the girl with a quiet confidence about her, the girl that made people question how well they knew themselves. I had made people think again and again about what it meant to be an individual, to be confident and beautiful. And here I was, walking side by side with a person that made me want to both hide away forever yet never leave his presence. "Oh, shush. It wasn't that cute.." I bit my lip and looked over at him again, controlling the smile that seemed permanently masked on my lips. "What about you? What would you do if you could do anything you wanted for a whole day?" I smiled innocently at him, maybe a little flirtatiously.

"Paint. Anything and everything." He spoke matter-of-factly, but with just enough humility to get me interested. I lifted my eyebrows, intrigued.

"You paint?" He nodded, running his hand through his golden hair again. I suddenly had an insatiable urge to put my hand through his hair too, to feel it's almost curly texture in between my fingers. I pressed the urge down until it was nearly nonexistent, biting the inside of my cheek. I was chastising myself in my head, telling myself how ridiculous my desire was. How foolish. He probably didn't even like me that way, why would he? I'm a plain girl, the only thing interesting about me was my dancing. You could pick up a million girls like me off the street. I turned my attention back to him, pushing away my self-degrading thoughts.

"It's sort of my..passion," he smiled shyly, "I could do it all day." I nodded approvingly.

"Let me guess.." I thought for a moment, and the silence seemed to catch his interest, "It's like..when you paint, there's nothing else in the world, like..it's just you and your paint. Nothing else..matters." I looked over at him and smiled knowingly, watching as realization washed over his features. He furrowed his eyebrows, but not in a confused way. It was an incredulous look. He laughed a little, nodding.

"Yeah. Exactly. How did you-," he stopped mid sentence and smiled, "Ah. Your dance."

I had to look away. His smile was too much, it was making my heart speed. I nodded once, closing my eyes for a moment. "When I'm on stage, I'm the happiest I've ever been. The warm spot light shining on me, just me, as I dance across the stage.."I took a deep breath and looked over at him quickly. He still seemed interested, and so I continued, "I love it. Nothing makes me happier." I grinned. "It's silly, but I guess it's sort of an out of body experience." I tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear, looking over at him again, smiling timidly.

He nodded, slowly. A small smile appeared on his lips. He spoke carefully. "You know..I think we have more in common than you think."

I smiled at him coyly. "You think?"

"Yeah," his smile was gentle, "I do." I bit my lip, looking down at my feet, my smile turning quiet. What else could he do to make the butterflies in my stomach dance even more? I looked up at him, but he was all ready looking away, looking straight ahead, his face blank, unreadable. I bit the inside of my cheek, afraid that I'd lost his interest. Noticing that we were closing in on the location of my house, I coughed softly, trying to get his attention. His focus was stationary, his gaze unmoved.

"Uh, Rob?" My voice was soft, weak. He seemed to snap out of his trance. He looked down at me, a funny sort of smile on his lips.

"Yes, Kristen?" His tone was slightly mocking, playful. But even so, I couldn't help the happiness that bubbled in the pit of my stomach as his gentle voice spoke my name. My cheeks flushed again as I pointed to a house not more than ten yards away.

"That's my house." He blinked and then looked up quickly. He nodded.

I watched as my house loomed closer. Yes, loomed. The closer I got to the building, the closer I got to leaving Rob. It made my heart hurt, even just a little bit, to think that I might never see him again. After all, it was by pure happenstance that I had run into him that day. I was usually quite reserved around people that I knew, let alone strangers that I had met not even thirty minutes ago. But this felt..special. Different. Amazing.

We were at the doorstep, and I was embarrassed. I was embarrassed by the loose shingles that hung from the roof, the dirty windows, the chipping gold paint on the door knob. We had never been rich, my dad and I. He worked more than one job for as long as I could remember, always working hard. We'd lived in the same house all my life, my dad was unable to tear himself from the small, rugged building after my mom died when I was three. But as I inserted the key into the rusty lock, I avoided Rob's gaze, trying to hide my embarrassment. I struggled opening the door, the door knob sticking. I sighed loudly, frustrated.

"Hey.." his voice was soft, hushed. I looked up, my eyes meeting his immediately. He smiled gently then reached for the knob, turning it with a little effort, then pressing the door opening slightly. I smiled gratefully, stepping up onto the threshold.

"Thanks." I held out my arm for the bag, which he slid into my grasp with ease. I opened the door a bit more, just wide enough for me to slip through but not enough that he could see inside. I ducked my head after giving him a small smile, taking a step inside.

"Wait—" I turned back to him, back to those perfect eyes, that crooked smile, back to the the hair that I wanted to touch so badly. He licked his lips quickly, looking like he was struggling to put words together. "When..when will I see you again?" He looked sincere, like he would do anything to make that happen. I started to shake my head slowly, unsure. "Tomorrow." My timid eyes met his pleading ones. I couldn't say no, not for anything in the world. So I nodded, biting my lip. His face took on a new demeanor, one of quiet excitement. He tried to mask the fact that he was genuinely happy; but his eyes gave him away. His blue-green eyes shone, brighter than they had the entire time they had been together. I made him happy. _I _made _him_ happy. And who was I kidding? He made me happy too. Foolishly happy, really. I had just met him, yet I had a feeling that every thought I would have after that point would have something to do with him. One single, irrational, silly thought made me grin. Maybe he would be thinking about me, too.

He brought me out of my fantasy world again. "I'll be here at seven?" He looked expectantly at me. I nodded again, timidly.

"I'll be here." A piece of my auburn hair drooped in front of my eyes, but again, my arms were full. And I looked silly. But before I knew it, Rob's hand was outstretched, lifting the hair gently and tucking it behind my ear. The action was slow, careful, affectionate. His hand lingered on my cheek. He gave me another charming, crooked smile and then turned around and walked away, the place where he touched me still burning.


	2. Ch 2: Rob

**Disclaimer: This fanfiction is completely made up and imaginative. I own nothing. This is completely AU. This has been created solely for the purposes of reader enjoyment and author creativity.**

A red stroke over the blue, the colors meshing into one. Violet gushing over the orange, a sunset, if you will. The eyes are the most important part; I had to make them perfect. It was dimly lit in the apartment, silent except for the soft, quiet sound of Mumford and Sons playing in the background. The smell of paint overwhelmed my senses, it was almost suffocating. Almost. I couldn't pull myself away from my painting, from the portrait of the face I couldn't forget. She swam in my vision as I closed my eyes. Her supple, alabaster skin, the shining hazel eyes, the delicate, red lips that were always smiling. I remembered her soft-looking auburn hair, sshoulightly tousled by the wind, her teeth gently biting her lip. Perfection. Absolute. Perfection. This girl, this Kristen, had the strangest impact on me. For not even thirty minutes, she captivated my attention like nothing I had ever experienced before. I was okay with that, oddly enough. I never wanted to forget her.

The moment I stepped foot in my apartment that evening, I practically raced to get a blank canvas, to pour the paints and gather my brushes. Before I knew it, I was giving my entire being to this painting, delving into it headfirst, no regrets. I gave it everything, each stroke landing carefully on the canvas, my heart and my mind racing against each other. By the time the sun had gone down, my heart had won. At that point, I didn't care how accurate it was, if the shade of brown was exactly right for her hair, if her cheeks were as pink as I remembered. I needed to lay out every single thing that I was feeling, every emotions that she made me feel. I needed to remember her at any and all costs.

I was finished. Not fully satisfied, as any artist never quite was with his final product, but I was finished. As was common for my art, the brush strokes were obscure, the lines blending and overlapping. At fist glance, or maybe even the second or third, a person might not understand it. They would see the twisting, turning strokes of brown covering half of the painting, overlapping over the pale and almost shimmering white like a waterfall. Then they would catch the smear of candy apple red and the light pink that dusted the white in a gentle blush. And then the eyes, my personal favorite. Brown and greens mixed together in an almond shape, reflecting the light as they had done that afternoon.

My bed was calling to me, and I had to reciprocate. Nothing seemed more inviting than my unmade, comfortable looking bed. Well..almost nothing. I laughed quietly to myself, pulling my shirt off and sliding off my jeans. I flicked off the light, submerging the apartment into immediate and total darkness. I lazily brushed my teeth and then returning to the bedroom, wearily pushed back the sheets to my bed and laid down, falling out of consciousness the moment my head touched the pillow.

I dreamt of her.


	3. Ch 3: Kristen

I dreamt of him.

Swirling images of his golden hair and shimmering blue-green eyes swam in my vision as I blinked my fuzzed-over eyes open, the first hints of sunlight peeking through the blinds and shining down in slim rays on the bed sheets. I turned my head towards my alarm clock and groaned, pressing my face into my pillow. It was seven thirty in the morning on a Saturday; I shouldn't be awake. I had no reason to be up this early. But I obeyed my internal alarm clock and rolled out of bed, but didn't bother with my usual shower; I would be going to the studio later that day anyway. After peeking in on my dad, who was still asleep, I shuffled down the stairs and into the kitchen, still blinking the sleep out of my eyes. I flipped on the small television, leaving it on the news station, and started cooking bacon and eggs, for my dad. I would be eating oatmeal; the breakfast of champions, or so my coach told me. I glanced over my shoulder as I heard footsteps and a gruff voice.

"That smells great, Kris." I smiled lightly as he poured himself a mug of coffee and sat at the table. I slid the hot food on a place and placed it in front of him, bending down to kiss him on the cheek gently.

"Morning, daddy." I settled in the chair next to him and brought my knees up to my chest, poking at my oatmeal with a shining silver spoon. It caught the light, bouncing off the convex end and shining on the wall opposite me. News reports of fires, kidnappings, and deaths buzzed in my ears as my eyes glazed over, my brain unable to focus on the bland color of my food. I felt a gentle hand on my knee after what must have been a decent length of time.

"Are you okay?" I blinked and looked up at my dad's worry-lined face. I smiled an nodded half-heartedly.

"Yeah. Just tired, I guess." When he looked doubtful, I locked my pinkie with his. "I promise." He smiled a bit and then sighed defeatedly.

"All right then." He sipped his coffee quietly before speaking again. "What are you up to today?" My schedule ran through my head, organized and concise.

"Tally wants me at the studio at eleven, I need to finish my history paper, Chanté wanted me to help her find a dress for this school thing, but I don't think I'll have time.." I remembered to breath, inhaling deeply, "and then.." I paused and a small smile spread across my lips as I looked down at my food shyly, "thenihaveadateatseven." I shoveled a bite of the soggy oatmeal in my mouth, hoping he hadn't caught the last thing I mentioned. My dad was the epitome of a protective father. He liked to interview, or as I considered it, interrogate, the guys I went out with for a solid half-hour, at least. He did it for good reason, of couse. I knew it. But this guy felt..special. Different. And I didn't particularly want him scared away by my dad and his small collection of large guns.

"A date? With who?" When I didn't respond, he set down his mug and turned towards me. I avoided his gaze. "It's not that kid Michael, is it? Kristen, you know how I fe—" I cut him off, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"No! Of course not. Not Michael." Michael had been my last boyfriend. His habits didn't particularly..please my dad, to say the least. But I had loved him. Or at least I thought I had, once. I had broken it off, but he was clingy. Always calling, texting, showing up randomly at the studio. At this point in time, though, as I continued to poke at my food, Michael didn't even flit through my mind. I was a bit preoccupied thinking about the accent I would be hearing and the soft smile I would see that night. Flashing back to reality, my dad's eyes were expectant, waiting. I shrugged. "He's just a guy I met yesterday. He helped me carry the groceries home."

"He live around here?" I shrugged again.

"I'm not sure." My dad looked skeptically at me. I smiled gently in return, innocently. ""I'll be fine, daddy. I'm a big girl." I flashed him a big smile, which made him chuckle and turn back to his food. I sighed quietly, relieved, as he dropped the subject. Reaching over, I picked up his empty mug and plate, carrying them as well as my full bowl of uneaten oatmeal to the sink, watching as the small grains slid down the aluminum walls.

The rest of the morning went as was normal in the Stewart household. My dad left for job number one at 9:30 and I switched out of my pajamas and slippers for a sweatshirt, leggings, and pointe shoes. I arrived at the studio at eleven exactly; punctuality had always been a priority for me.

By 2, I was getting antsy. I couldn't focus on my rengete's, my weakness that needed perfection, or straightening my extensions, something I usually had no problem with. Even my coach noticed my anxiousness, which ultimately led to her releasing me early. I was home by 5. That left me 2 hours until he got there. 2 hours until I saw Rob again.

Hot water slid down my body, steam clinging to my skin. I closed my eyes and ducked under the shower head, letting the water drip over my eyelids and lips. After turning off the water I pushed the curtain back and reached for a towel, pressing the soft cloth to my face. I just stood there, breathing into the terrycloth, unmoving. After a few moments I blinked water out of my eyes as I wrapped the towel around myself. My hair stuck to my neck and shoulders, falling in unorganized waves. Cold air rushed at me as I stepped into my bedroom; I had forgotten to turn off my ceiling fan. After glancing at my bedside clock, my heart skipped a beat. I had an hour to be ready. How long had I taken in the shower?

Rushing, I sped to my dresser, dropped the towel, and slid on a deep red, silky pair of underwear and a lacy red bra that matched: they always made me feel pretty. I stood in front of my dresser, shuffling through my t-shirts. Settling, I shoved a gray Nirvana t-shirt over my head, its soft material gentle against my skin. Slipping on a pair of jeans, quite clumsily, I ran my fingers through my nearly dry hair, skipping the blow dryer. I chanced a glance at the clock again. 6:15. I groaned, racing back to the bathroom, hastily wiping the foggy mirror with a hand towel. Make-up had never been my strong suit, but I went for the kill, lining my eyes with hazel brown eye shadow and wiping the rest of my lids with a shimmery tan-ish shadow. It wasn't much, but it made my green eyes look nice. I had always thought that they were my best feature. The clock read 6:42. I brushed my teeth and smeared a bit of chapstick on my lips, checking my appearance in my full-length mirror. I looked decent. Pretty, even. I smiled and bit my lip. I had fifteen minutes to sit and wait.

7:00 exactly. The clocked ticked, it's sounds reverberating in my ears as I sat in my dad's favorite arm chair, diagonal from the television. When I was little, I would sit in his chair and he would walk in, look at me, and then sit on me, careful to use hardly any of his weight. I would giggle and pound my little fists on his back until he stood up and picked me up, setting me down on his lap as he sat back down. I could sit there for hours, hearing my dad tell stories about anything. But mostly my mom. He would tell me how beautiful she was, how perfect her laugh was, how much she smiled. I would fall asleep in his arms, my head pressed against his chest, my long, gangly legs curled up on his lap. He would carry me to my bed soundlessly, tuck me in, and turn on the ballet shoe-shaped night light. And then he would go to work, to his second job. I only witnessed his departure once all those years. If I hadn't woken up that night, as an 8 year old, found my dad missing, and called his cell phone, I would have never known. That's where I learned to love, from my dad. It's where I learned to laugh and smile, even when you didn't want to. I learned perseverance and dedication, and unwillingness to give up. Ever. His actions, his selfless actions, made me who I am today. I could never thank him enough for that.

A nostalgic smile was on my lips as I remembered, letting my body relax into the soft chair. There was a knock at the door. It was gentle, tentative. My heart sped, my cheeks flushed. Excitement coursed through my veins. Outside that door, no more than four yards away from me, was the guy that I felt a strange connection with. A strong connection. I crossed the room in three strides. I placed my hand on the doorknob and breathed, my stomach bubbling with nervousness. I turned the knob, opening the door with a burst of warm air. I smiled, my vision locking on Rob's eyes.


	4. Ch 4: RobKristen

Rob's POV

Foolishly enough, I had presumed that I had prepped myself adequately for this evening. I couldn't have been more wrong. I spent what felt like hours on the threshold of her house, running my fingers through my hair and trying to get up the nerve to actually knock. Somewhere near the front of my brain, I was convinced that she didn't actually live here, that she was just leading me on. There was no way someone so..beautiful, so perfect, would ever want to be with me. Unfortunately, the moment she opened the door and caught my eye, my entire body seemed to react. My heart sped slightly; my lungs seemed to run out of air. It felt like the entire world was falling out from beneath my feet. No matter how hard I tried, I could not seem to avoid the almost foolish smile that spread across my lips. I had never felt this way before, about anything, aside from painting. Let alone another human being. I felt silly, to be perfectly honest. But, what if she felt the same way? It was a chance that I had to take.

"Hey." My brain seemed to have caught up with the real world just enough to utter one syllable, just enough to begin a conversation. She smiled, and I noticed the flash of color on her cheeks. Just like I remembered. Her eyes, though, were what caught my attention. They shone, sparkled, even. I thought I had portrayed them fairly well in my portrait, but I had been completely mistaken. There was no possible way that these eyes could be imitated, copied, or described. They had to be experienced, seen. And as I would learn as the night continued, these same laws applied to the rest of her as well. Her laugh, her smile, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating. All of it was mesmerizing, and as near perfect as I had ever imagined could be possible.

After a few moments of shifting silence in my car as I drove, Kristen's light voice carried to my ears, her touch of sarcasm causing my mouth to lift into a soft smirk.

"So are you going to tell me where we're going? Or should I assume this is just a great kidnapping?" She looked over at me, a smirk playing on her lips as well. I shook my head slightly, shrugging.

"How about a hint?" I glanced over as she playfully considered my offer, eventually nodding her head with a soft sigh. I smiled, cocking my head slightly to the side, thinking up what to say next. "Hm. How about.. it's a place where those in need of a grade seek refuge." Content with my riddle, I looked over again with a light smirk and watched as her eyebrows furrowed lightly, chewing on the inside of her cheek. After a few minutes, she spoke as she looked out the front windshield.

"A..college?" I shook my head, smiling lightly as she fought mentally with the riddle. She seemed determined, something that I assumed she attributed with most things.

"But you're close." I glanced over and smiled lightly, almost teasingly, but just the sight of her made my heart beat faster. God, it was like I was high, and she was my drug. Oddly, though, the way that I felt at that very moment was better than any time I could remember picking up any drug. For a brief moment I thought back to what was hidden in my nightstand drawer, sock drawer, and kitchen cabinet. A temporary, awful feeling of guilt washed over me for only a moment as I thought of what Kristen might think if she knew I used. He swallowed, blinking the thought away as he hears Kristen's voice again, this time bright.

"A library?" She looked over at me and I caught her eye, again amazed at their perpetual shimmer. I snorted softly under my breath, shaking my head lightly with a smile across my lips.

"I should have known you're smarter than me," I winked at her and turned back to the road, but saw out of my peripheral vision as color again flitted across her alabaster cheeks, her hands flying up to push her hair out of her face.

Kristen's POV

I felt like I was completely out of my league. Rob arrived in all his glory at my door; his bright eyes, insatiably messy hair and all. I felt foolish as I smiled brightly in return to his crooked, perfect smile. I hadn't ever felt this way before, aside from the first time I got on stage. I had known him for no more than four hours, but oddly enough, I felt like I had known him for so much longer. The two times I had seen him up to this point, the simple sight of him made my breath catch, my heart speed even by the slightest bit. It was exhilarating. I.. wanted to feel it constantly, whatever this feeling was. And if that happened to mean being with Rob, I would be more than willing to succumb.

"Hi," I sounded breathless to my own ears; desperate, even. As I had the first time I spoke to him, I wish I hadn't spoken. What was it about him, that made me doubt myself so easily? That made me question my own motives? There was something we had discussed in my psychology class, about this. Motives. A person only questions motives when they fear retribution, negative judgment, or humiliation. Purely selfish reasons, yet all humans lived by them. I had been so subconsciously trained by my environment to feel the need to be accepted that even with this person I hardly knew, I feared so much that I questioned not only his motives, but my own.

I hadn't thought about that then, though. And so I acted as if I doubted nothing; confident, independent, and a little sarcastic as we drove towards our destination. Curious, I asked where we were going. In response, he offered a clue. I rolled my eyes and laughed lightly but nodded, accepting. It took a few minutes, but when I figured it out, he couldn't erase a small, teasing smile on his lips as he complimented me. I felt my cheeks flame lightly and I brought my hand up to push away my hair, something I always did when I was embarrassed.

It was quiet for a few moments, but it wasn't awkward. It was more of a contemplative silence, a time that was only broken by arriving at our destination. Turning off the car, he quickly took my hand that was reaching for the car door handle, tut-tutting lightly.

"What's a gentleman if not.." he hesitated for a moment, a tiny smirk playing on his lips, "..gentlemanly." I laughed, nodding slightly, but not pulling my hand away from his. He smiled kindly, slowly slipping away and returning to my side of the car, opening the door and offering me his hand. I bit down on my lip, controlling a smile as I accepted his help and stood up. I murmured a soft thank you, his fingers accidentally grazing the palm of my hand as we parted and began to walk, making a spark of what felt like electricity run up my arm. I shivered lightly, biting the inside of her cheek and taking a small step away. That was new, the spark. And I couldn't help but want to feel it again. I looked over at him for a moment, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear and biting down lightly on my lip. Did he feel it, too? Or was I just love-struck, like every other desperate teenager in the world? The moment I tried to focus on this thought, though, I got distracted. It was like every time I looked at him, there was something new to love. The way his hair drooped slightly on his forehead, how each time we passed through a lit area, his eyes shone, the way that his crooked smile played almost teasingly on his lips. Internally shaking my head, I tucked my hands into my back pockets and looked down at my feet. This was ridiculous. I sounded like a fool, even in my own head. I licked my lips, making a deal with myself silently. _We'll see how tonight goes. If he isn't interested, I'll drop it. If he is.. _I couldn't help the hopeful smile that crossed my lips. _If._

Rob's POV

I couldn't count the times that I had been completely captivated by Kristen's smile or laugh so far that night. The library had been cleared, closed early for a 'special event.' For the few months I had lived here, I had won over the librarians and gained their permission to use the library for a date; nothing normal, but everything thirty minutes, I had convinced her to play a game of tag, telling her that there was no better place to play a child's game than in the children's hall.

"Five second head start," I winked playfully, the smile that spread on her lips contagious. I held up a hand, counting down slowly at first but skipped 2 and 1 as she took off in the other direction. She flipped her head around, sticking her tongue out at me.

"Cheater!" I laughed, taking a detour and racing up an isle to head her off. Her eyes widened as she saw me come around the bend, hesitating a split second before turning on her heels and sprinting off. He shook my head, grinning and following her footsteps.

"How are you so fast?" I called after her, suddenly somewhat incredulous.

"I dance.." She stood behind a short book shelf, her hands planted on top of the neutral surface, a smirk on her lips, her eyes shining in amusement, "remember?" I laughed breathily, slowing to a walk as I approached her, standing on the opposite side of the shelf, copying her stance, a slightly cocky smirk on my lips.

"Right. Dancing," Before I even thought about it, I was pushing myself up over the shelf, making her lean up against the larger shelf that was behind her as I stood in front of her, my toes touching hers. My hands were pressed against the shelf, beside her waist. We were so close; I could feel the softness of her breathing on my lips. I waited a moment, gauging her reaction to my abruptness. I couldn't help it, anymore. I was a different person with her, someone I felt like I couldn't control yet. My eyes moved to her lips, and every bit of the strength I was holding vanished as I saw her biting on her lower lip.


	5. Ch 5: KristenRob

Kristen's POV

You know all of those cheesy, sappy romantic movies that single people sit down to watch with their companion ice cream on Valentine's Day? The ones with childhood friends who moved away, but finally reconnect and find perfect love; Where we always get our ideas of romanticism, like kissing in the rain and being given a bouquet of flowers in the middle of class. In my opinion, every girl to some extent wants that to happen to her. To find that one person that loves them with their everything, who would do anything for them. Before tonight, I had never fully understood the desire for love like that. I figured that, sure, I wanted to get married one day and start a family, but I never really thought about it like the rest of my peers. But before tonight, I had never felt the softness of Rob's lips against mine, the way his hands slowly slid to my waist, fitting perfectly, like I was meant for him to hold me. I had never wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him selfishly closer. I had never felt the surge of complete satisfaction course through my body like it did in that moment.

With the little will I had left to not completely hand myself over to him, I pulled away, ducking my head slightly and biting down on my lip. As my brain began functioning accurately once again, I chastised myself. I wasn't the kind of girl who kissed on the first date, let alone within the first hour. I wasn't like this, ever. I almost wanted to fight the way I felt, arguing that I was stronger than this, that one person couldn't change the person I was. But that would have been a lie, and I knew it. I knew it the moment Rob lifted up my chin and smiled that crooked smile, his eyes locking on mine.

Rob's POV

All I knew was that it seemed like the entire world was once again falling out from beneath me, leaving just me and Kristen. In that moment, I thought of nothing but the sweetness of her lips, the sensitive way that she touched my neck. She encompassed my entire thoughts, my entire body, my entire being. From that moment, from those few seconds that were like pure ecstasy, I knew I would never feel quite the same again without her; Like a puzzle, missing the most important piece, a painting with no paint.

And she kissed me back.

She felt the same way that I did. I smiled softly as she pulled away, lifting my fingers up underneath her chin and pulling her up gently to look at me. God. I loved this girl, and I hardly knew her. But her lips weren't turned up in the already familiar smile that I knew. Immediately, I regretted my decision, dropping my hand slowly, my smile turning into a light frown.

"I'm sorry, Kri—" I was interrupted with her lips once again pressed on mine, her arms again snaking up around my neck. Again, any thoughts I supposed I had vanished. I was reacting on behalf of my heart now, letting it lead me to lift a hand up to her cheek, cupping it, pulling her selfishly closer. I never wanted to forget exactly what I felt in this moment, the.. untainted happiness that simple kisses brought me. Again, she pulled away, her lips slowly departing from mine. But this time she didn't frown, she didn't look away. Rather, gently closed her eyes as a soft smile played across her lips and let me rest my forehead against hers, quietly breathing in everything that had just happened. "Kristen.." She blinked her eyes open, looking so pure, so innocent that it took my breath away. When I had trouble finding words, light pink flashed across her cheeks and she avoided my gaze, pulling away from me.

"I'm.. sorry, Rob." Before I could say anything, she had nearly run away from me, only stopping for her jacket before heading for the door. I stood, slightly shocked for a moment, but followed after her as quickly as I could, halting when I was several feet away from her.

"Kristen!" I called after her, sounding nearly desperate. I had no idea what to do; Should I stop her, let her go? Fortunately enough, the simple mention of her name was enough to get her to hesitate. She didn't turn around, but she didn't run away either. I took a few steps towards her, within a few feet of her now. I could hear her breath as she stood there, as well as what sounded like controlled tears. God, what had I done? I couldn't lose her. Not now, after.. after finding her. After feeling what I had. I knew what I would do, the moment I got home, if she left. I would feel.. nothing, until I picked up my drugs. Those would make me feel again. Those would make me forget, at least momentarily, that I had probably ruined my life, letting her out of my grasp. I couldn't risk that. Out of pure instinct, my heart pounding, I reached out and spun her around to face me, immediately pressing our lips together. She hardly moved, but I could feel salty tears on her lips. My heart twisted in pain. I pulled away, my hand again going to her cheek, my eyes locking on hers. "Can't you feel that?" I was whispering, afraid to scare her off. After a moment she nodded slowly, looking away.

"I..I don't know what to do," Her voice was soft; I could hardly hear the words. Again, I spoke without thinking, my heart controlling my brain.

"I'll help you," I don't know why I said what I did. I felt as scared as she looked; but I knew I had to do something. I would do whatever it took to make sure that she never left.

Kristen's POV

I was afraid. Not afraid of him, but afraid of myself. Afraid of what I felt. These emotions, this.. love, happiness.. I had never felt them before like this. It felt like entering a foreign country with six year knowledge of the language. You felt like you belonged, like you should be there, but you're thrown into it so fast that you don't know how to react. I didn't know how to gauge how I would react, to having this kind of a relationship with someone. And that was one thing that I always felt confident about: having the knowledge of exactly how to handle myself. That's what ballet took. It took focus, strength of the mind as well as the extremities. You had to know your body to do well in the sport, know how it responds to every sort of stimuli. Love was the one thing that I didn't know how to react to.

I had no idea I was crying until he kissed me and I tasted the salty tears on my own lips. But even through the thickness that was my fear, the unbridled happiness still made its way to my heart. I couldn't hide, not behind the wall I made for myself. He could read me like a book, and I knew it. But.. I didn't care, really. All I knew, now, was that he was going to be there for me. That he felt the same way that I did, that there was no force in this world (let alone my own fear) that would stop me from falling in love with him. It sounded drastic in my head, the notion that I was going to fall for him. But somewhere in my subconscious, floating around, was the thought that he could be the one.

He was smiling again, so I had to smile back. I ducked my head lightly, avoiding his gaze. He placed a light kiss on my forehead, and a shiver traced down my body. God, the way he made me feel.. it all felt too good to be true. Like it would all disappear. His voice is gentle as he speaks against my skin, a sound that would barely reverberate on the calmest of waters.

"Let's go," I nodded lightly, pulling away from his lips reluctantly and walking beside him as we walked out of the library doors, and with a simple flick, submerged the library into darkness. In the parking lot, we each seemed to be on the same brain wave, both of us placing out hands in our back pockets. We didn't speak the entire car ride; but there was tension in the air. Strong, sweet. The moment he stopped in front of my house, I pushed open the door, but his hand caught mine once again. I looked back, biting down on my lip. "When can I see you again?" Of course, my automatic reply in my head was 'Whenever you want. Hey, why don't you just come in now?' But instead I answered chastely, the corners of my lips turned up in a genuine smile.

"Tomorrow," he flashed me his dazzling crooked smile, nodding lightly.

"I'll be here." I smiled brightly in return, suddenly looking forward to the next day. I stepped out of the car, but let his fingers graze slowly along my palm as I exited. I would dream about him, again. His lingering touch, the gentle kisses, the way his smile made me feel so foolish, but which I couldn't resist. I didn't regret the dreams.


	6. Ch 6: RobKristen

Rob's POV

I arrived at her house the next day, my heart sewed onto my sleeve. It was a Sunday afternoon, and I hadn't even imagined that anyone would be home aside from Kristen, which only proved my enthrallment with the girl. From behind the door I heard soft footsteps, dancing their way down the stairs, and a smile crossed my lips. Kristen. But I then heard a gruff voice, noting that he was getting the door. For a moment I froze. Her father. I was vaguely aware, my thoughts racing, as the doorknob twisted open and a tall man opened the door. Blonde hair and Kristen's green eyes looking at me blankly.

I ran my fingers through my hair, a sort of nervous smile on my lips as I held my hand out to him. "Hello, sir. I'm Robert. I was hoping to take your daughter out for some gelato this afternoon." God, I sounded like a fool. I saw a familiar face bob behind the man's shoulder, bottom lip between her teeth and green eyes shining just as I had remembered. A smile immediately flashed on my lips as I saw her. Her father must have noticed as well, because he turned his head and glanced at Kristen. He shook his head, smiling lightly as well as he turned to look at me again. He waved his hand, stepping aside to let Kristen through.

"Have fun, Kris. Be home before dark." He smiled at his daughter and Kristen reciprocated by kissing him softly on the cheek.

"Thanks, daddy. I will."

I could feel his gaze on our backs as we walked away, which made my posture awkwardly straight. Honestly, I was slightly shocked at how easily he had simply let her go. Not that I was complaining.

I looked down at her as we walked towards my car, but she maintained her gaze ahead, a contemplative smile on her lips. I nudged her playfully, tucking my hands into my back pockets. She looked up, eyes so innocent it shocked me.

"What are you thinking about, love?" Her eyes widened, and I realized what I had said. Why had I called her 'love?' It was an English thing, something you usually called your girlfriend or a child. Not someone who you had shared a kiss or two with the previous night. Of course she knew all of this; it's what came with most of America's infatuation with English customs. She shrugged, obviously not too worried. I felt relieved.

"I don't really know. Just.. how weird it is, that we're moving so.. fast." My eyes became concerned.

"Oh, Kristen, we don't have to.." My words threaded together, stumbling over each other. Maybe we _were_ moving too fast. The last thing I wanted to do was force her into anything she didn't want to do. I could be patient. Or.. at least try.

She grabbed my arm, stopping both of us in our tracks as we reached the bonnet of the car, looking up at me with a bright smile.

"Rob. Shut up. I never said that I didn't like it." The tiny girl stood up on her tiptoes, her lips meeting mine softly, placing her hand against my neck. My arms snaked around her waist, hands lightly pressing against her back. She pulled away, too soon. I pressed a light kiss against her forehead before smiling down at her.

"Good. Because I like it too." She laughed quietly and separated herself from me. My hand lingered on her back, my fingers lightly touching the cotton fabric of her shirt.

Kristen's POV

He called me 'love.' He used it over and over again, so often in fact, that once I teasingly questioned if he knew my name. As I expected he responded wittily, those blue-green eyes exceptionally bright: "Of course I do. It's Catherine, isn't it?" And I just shook my head and laughed.

Each time I looked up at him that afternoon, it seemed that Rob was already looking at me. Not so much in a creepy way as in a.. curious way. As if there was something about me he couldn't quite figure out. This ultimately confused me, as I felt like when I was in front of him I was so easy to read. Each time I noticed him looking, he didn't look away, he just smiled. He smiled that crooked smile that made the muscles in my heart twinge and which I couldn't usually help but want to kiss away. Usually I resisted, but occasionally I gave into my insatiable desire and touched his soft lips with my own, letting us, if only for a moment, live in our new, tiny bubble.

That evening, of course, my father wanted to meet Rob. Although I tried to convince him that it would be a terrible idea, Rob went along with it.

Oddly enough, it wasn't too awful. My father mostly approved. He asked the basic questions, along with a few that made me want to turn invisible and crawl away.

"Where are you from?"

"London, sir."

"How long have you been living here?"

"Almost a year, now."

"Are you going to college?"

"Not right now, sir. I'm actually a painter, so I'm attempting to get my name out there. But university is an ambition of mine."

"Have you and my daughter kissed?" At this question, Rob shot a quick glance in my direction, looking momentarily concerned.

"Yes, sir," he responded, his intonation confident. We both looked to my father for his response. He didn't look angry, but not quite happy either; somewhere in the sketchy middle.

"When, in your opinion, is it appropriate to have sex?" I immediately flushed a bright red.

"Daddy.." I said in a nervous voice. My father continued to look at Rob expectantly. Rob shook his head, looking over at me with a light smile. Had he done this a lot? Immediately my mind was washed over with all of the potential scenarios like this one in which Rob had to answer when he and some girl should have sex, if they had kissed, and if he wants to get married. I questioned whether or not if what we had was special, or if he made every girl feel this way. A flash of unimportance crossed my mind, and I frowned slightly.

"Honestly, I believe that once two people know that they will be together for eternity, it is appropriate. But not at any time before that point." I held my breath subconsciously as I looked again to my father. He was nodding slightly, approvingly. I breathed out in relief, looking over to Rob and gave him my best faux smile.

Some time later, my father decided to release Rob from his dragon-like hold. We both stepped outside onto my dingy patio, my father shutting the door behind us, but not before telling Rob to be sure and kiss me goodnight. Pink played across my cheeks and I looked down, embarrassed.

"Hey," His soft voice called for me to look up. He was smiling, although it wasn't quite as real as I was used to. He placed his hands on my hips, stepping closer. "That was fun." He laughed and I smiled, tilting my head lightly to the side. "Your father certainly loves you, though." I let my arms rest up on his shoulders, shaking my head lightly.

"Can we not talk about my father? That experience was traumatic enough as it is.." He chuckled softly as I laughed, my eyes following his lips as he speaks.

"Well, then what would you like to discuss, hm?" He was smiling cockily, as if he had an idea of his own.

"How about.." I hesitated, pouting my lips subconsciously as I thought, "..the fact that I'd like to see you again tomorrow." I smiled lightly, shaking my head as he looked down at me as if that was obvious, "Aaand," I drew out my word, causing him to lift his eyebrows in intrigue, "As often as I can after that, too." A genuine smile again traced his lips.

"I think that that sounds like an excellent plan, love." He kissed my forehead lightly, his lips lingering.

"Why do you call me that? Love?" He shrugged, looking down at me.

"I'm not really sure. It just feels natural, I suppose." I nodded gently.

"I like it." I smiled softly up at him, biting down on my lower lip.

"Mm. Good." He pressed a light kiss to my lips, pulling away too quickly. "I should go. Your father's probably worrying." He motioned to the house with his head, and I couldn't help a sigh as it escapes my lips. "Oh, shush. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" I nodded, unable to retaliate. "Until tomorrow, love." He lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss gently. A feeling of warmth spread throughout my body, once again electric. He smiled tenderly, leaving me on my doorstep; just as he had he had 3 days ago.

Except this time, I knew I would see him again.

**So? How do you like it so far? What's your favorite part?**

**Kristen's POV?**

**Rob's POV?**

**I know it's very fluffy right now, but within a chapter or two, things will get more hectic, I guarantee.**

**PLEASE REVIEW! I'd really like to know your feedback. :)**

**xx**


	7. Ch 7: Kristen

Kristen's POV

It had been almost a month since I had met Rob. It had also been one of the happiest months that I can remember. Even the springtime, which I usually detested for it's lack of sun, suddenly became brighter. It was as if my world had been missing one, single piece, the piece which brings everything together.

Don't get me wrong; before I met him I wasn't depressed. I was actually fairly happy. I was doing well in school, I had a few good friends, and my dancing career was finally beginning to take off.

So, no, I didn't notice that a piece of my life had been missing. It's like they say, you don't know a good thing until it's gone. And so when Rob left the second to the last week of May to visit friends and family in London, I couldn't quite place my finger on exactly what I was feeling. I subconsciously longed for his raspy voice, ached for his touch. It was like a craving that I couldn't satiate. By the day that he would be coming home arrived, I would have done nearly anything to touch him. For him to touch me.

I hardly remembered the drive to the airport. I was in a sort of haze that only the sight of him could release me from. I had no conscious idea at the time of what propelled me forward so quickly when I saw him come through the automatic doors, a small bag of luggage in hand, enough for me and my tiny frame to almost knock him over.

"Well, hello to you too, love," he mumbled against my hair, having dropped his suitcase in order to wrap his arms around my waist and lift me up off the ground.

I breathed in his scent, my face pressed into his neck, relishing in what I had missed so much over the last week.

"I missed you.." I mumbled back, speaking my mind, not wanting to pull myself away. He set me down, nonetheless, but he didn't bother releasing my waist.

"I missed you too." I stood up on my tiptoes and tried to kiss him, but he pulled his head back slightly. I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Now, now. Kristen, we're in a public place," he looked at me as if I was doing something shame worthy, but the sparkle of mischief in his eyes gave him away. I shook my head and rolled my eyes, my pout turning into a smile.

"Shut up and kiss me, already." He grinned, his teeth peeking through his lips, as he bent down to meet me halfway. Yet another thing I missed; the spark I got when his lips touched mine. I felt his hand cup my cheek as I pressed the kiss further, harder. He pulled away long enough to say my name, his voice low, almost desperate.

"Kristen.." I sighed, nodding

"I know." He watched my eyes as he traced his long fingers down my jaw, eyebrows furrowed slightly, as if searching for something. I was suddenly concerned, and my voice reflected it.

"Are you okay?" At my voice he seemed to blink out of his unawareness, and immediately he smiled brightly, as if he had just achieved some epiphany.

"I'm fine, love," he pressed another kiss to my lips, so light I could barely feel it, "you are so beautiful."

He had called me beautiful so many times since we had met that you would think that I would be used to it by now, that I wouldn't still be embarrassed. But without fail, each time he complimented me, a blush played across my cheeks and I looked down and shuffled my feet. It wasn't like I wasn't ever called beautiful before, it was just the way he said it. Like.. I was the only person in the world, like nothing else existed.

I felt his lips on my forehead, making me look up. He was still smiling.

"Come. Let's go home," He bent over and picked up his suitcase, his other arm wrapping around me as we walked.

_Home._ He said it as if we had a mutual place to go, like there was somewhere we both belonged, together. As much as I wanted it to be true, I knew it wasn't. I still lived with my father, at least until graduation. Then I was moving out, to an apartment that hopefully wasn't far from Rob's. Damn, here I was thinking that we might even still be together by then. He might finally realize how completely messed up I am and find someone so much better.

As we drove home, Rob in the passenger's seat, he reached out for my hand, pressing my palm to his lips and breathing softly. I glanced over, an amused smile on my lips.

"What are you doing?" His eyes moved up to meet mine, and I felt his smile trace into my palm.

"I've missed how soft your hands are," he mumbled, his lips traveling up to the tips of my fingers. A soft sound escaped my lips, a subconscious result of the electricity that sparked through my veins in that moment, and he looked over to me with a smirk. I blushed, avoiding his gaze by looking intently at the road.

"What?" I asked, my teeth biting down on the inside of my cheek. Had he really heard that? Had I really made a sound? He shrugged, that annoying smirk still on his lips as he spoke in a sing-songy way.

"Nothing."

I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand back and continuing to look out the windshield.

Silence continued to echo through the car as we drove to his apartment, but the air was loud. The sensation was frustrating, and I had no idea what to do about it. I didn't even know what it was. I had always known my body and how it handled things. I knew what stress did, what happiness did. I felt confident in whatever I did because of this simple fact.

But when it came to Rob, all of that went out the window. I had no idea what I was feeling, let alone how to handle myself with him.

He was exactly what it took to shake me.

When we arrived at his apartment building and began walking up the stairs, Rob took my hand once again and placed a tiny kiss on my neck; loving, adoring.

Fuck. I finally figured out the tension that had been between us in the car. The sensation of his kiss went straight between my legs.

We hadn't had sex yet. But honestly, I hadn't thought much about it. But now, walking up the stairs to his apartment, that's all I thought about. I thought about how he must have wanted it for so long now, but I've never expressed any interest.

How untrue is that now.

It felt like hours before we actually reached his apartment, but when we finally did, Rob had me pressed up against his door, his lips over mine before I even had the chance to react.

"Rob.." I mumbled against his lips, his hands gripping my waist tightly, mine wrapped around his neck. He pulled away, his breathing slightly bated as he spoke softly.

"Right. Inside." His hands shook as he unlocked the door, each of us touching our hair impatiently.

My thoughts were all focused on a single thing: his touch. I wanted to feel his skin on mine, his lips all over my body. I wanted to feel him on top of me, to lose control to him.

I had felt this only once before, but it hadn't been nearly as strong. I thought he had been my soul mate, from the way he made me feel. I felt loved for the second time in my life, and I wanted to give him every part of myself. So I did. I regretted it, the day after it happened. He had used me, just like he had used every other girl in my grade. I was a game meant to be won.

Now, with Rob, it was different. I knew he wouldn't hurt me. But I couldn't help the thought as it ran through my mind.

What if he does?

He won't. He can't.

I had to make the first move.

The moment we step inside, even before the door is closed, Rob grabbed my waist and pulled me close, his lips instantly connecting with mine. I felt his hand lifting up the hem of my shirt, touching my bare skin with his fingertips cautiously. I arched my back into his hand, telling him that I didn't mind.

Of course I didn't mind.

My hands twisted in his hair and I begin to push your entwined bodies toward the couch. By the time I had forced him backwards he must have known that I was planning on taking charge, and he seemed to approve. He body pushed me back, but I put my hands on his chest and sent him backwards onto the couch. I might look fragile, but training for fourteen years didn't leave me useless in strength.

My confidence was roaring as I saw the wide smirk on his lips as I straddled his legs. My lips met his neck, his hands pressed against my lower back, bring _me_ closer to _him_. I felt his hardness against my thigh and a shiver shocked through my body.

We were actually doing this.

I tipped my head back as his lips trailed along my jaw and down my neck, his hand tracing their way along the waist of my jeans, unbuttoning them painstakingly slowly.

Fuck. I was already so wet, and he hadn't even touched me.

I want him to touch me.

I push my hips into his hand, a tiny moan escaping my lips. He knew I wanted him, but he was going to tease me. I should have expected that.

As his lips toyed with my neck, biting, kissing, sucking, my fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt, impatiently pulling each one out of it's place. I pushed his shirt off his shoulders, his hands only momentarily leaving the bare skin of my back.

In that moment my eyes met his. They weren't the shining blue-green that I had seen the first day we met, but harsh, intense. They were so lustful, so desiring, that I hardly recognized them.

I wondered what my own eyes looked like.

My hands were on his chest, tugging subconsciously on his chest hair as his teeth grazed down the underside of my jaw, kissing me harshly as he reached my lips.

I ached for his bare skin against mine.

"Rob.." I said softly, my breathing heavy, "take my shirt of."

He didn't hesitate. His hands immediately went to the hem of my shirt; lifting it up and tossing it aside like a piece of used tissue paper. A low growl emitted from his lips as he saw the black lace of my bra. He placed patient, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of my breast. I arched my back towards his mouth, eager.

I wasn't leaning against him any longer, and I had relinquished my control. He stood up, slowly, his hands on my ass, keeping my legs wrapped around his waist. I locked my ankles together and pressed closer to him.

My skin on his.

I was acutely aware as he took us into his bedroom, as his mouth seemed to be everywhere. I was certain that I would find a hickey on my neck the next morning.

My head fell into a cloud of pillows as he dropped me on the bed, a soft grunt escaping my lips. I watched with a smile as Rob worked on getting his pants off, eventually kicking them off along with his shoes. He crawled onto the foot of the bed, his hands carefully slipping off my sneakers and socks, one by one. He kissed the instep of my foot lightly and I giggled, pulling my foot away playfully. He looked up to me and smiled that crooked smile which made me blush.

He moved farther up the bed, straddling my legs just as I had on the couch. His hand slid between my thighs once, enough to get me to fall backwards and moan.

I shouldn't already be this wet, should I?

I didn't care. His hands were gripping the waistband of my jeans and pushing them down, leaving my blue lace panties on, as I unclasped my bra and tossed it off the bed. He was still teasing me, but I felt how desperate he was becoming. It floated off of him like a scent.

He pushed himself up to my level, kissing me softly. His hand, though, is what made my breathing get heavier. He had let it stop directly over my wet center, his fingers digging in slightly. I moaned, pushing my hips into his hand, trying to create friction with what little he was giving me.

"You're already so wet," He moaned softly into my mouth, beginning to softly stroke his fingers over the fabric.

So close.

"Just touch me," I whispered against his lips. He didn't hesitate.

His hands took off the thin fabric of my panties and, in one sudden jolt of pure ecstasy, his thumb and forefinger began to tease my clit, his lips surrounding one of my nipples, biting down gently.

"Fuck.." I moaned, my back arched and my hand on the back of his head, forcing him closer. I hadn't even realized that he had slid off his boxers until he started to grind against me, his erection pressing into me.

"Rob," I seemed to pant, my lips snagging his away from my breast. I kissed up his jaw, stopping at his ear. I breathed into his ear for a moment, letting him know exactly what he was making me feel. My words came slowly, when they finally came.

"Fuck me."

I felt his erection grow harder, if that was even possible. He hesitated, though, which was something that I didn't expect. He pulled away from me and caught my eye, looking at me intently.

"Are you sure, baby?" I felt like I could laugh in that moment, if I had any breath left. I nodded with a weary smile. I crashed my lips against his, our tongues swirling around each other, as I heard him feel around his nightstand for a condom.

He entered me slowly, and a moan escaped my lips with nowhere to go except his mouth. He began to thrust, slowly at first. Each time he pushed into me I moaned again. As far as I was concerned, we were the only two people alive. It was Rob and me. No one else.

"Fuck, Kristen.. you feel so good.." He forced himself farther inside me, moaning loudly. I whimpered, my fingers twisting in his hair and tugging.

"Please, faster," He thrusted harder, faster, obviously sensing how close I was to climax. I moaned continuously; in his mouth, in his ear, in his hair. I had no room to breathe, to inhale anything except ecstasy.

Not that I gave a single fuck.

I exploded within moments, and he came not long after that. I moaned his name as I climaxed, wanting him to know what he did to me. It was an oddly perfect moment; one that I doubted could have been recreated. I shook as we each fell from orgasm, my body still not understanding what had just happened.

Rob pulled out of me, wrapping his arms around me and holding me as I trembled. He kissed my hair softly, his hand rubbed my back soothingly.

I looked up to him, still hazy from my climax, but clear enough to see his blue-green and crooked smile.

"I love you," I whispered, reaching up to gently touch my lips to his before pressing my face to his bare chest.

**So? First Robsten lemons. I don't consider it my finest, but it had to be done.**

**Do you think they're moving too quickly? Should they have slowed things down, or should this have happened a lot sooner?**

**PLEASE REVIEW! I love to hear what you guys have to say; I love good and bad criticism.**

**I love you all, and happy 22nd birthday to my darling Kristen Stewart.**


	8. Ch 8: Rob

**A/N: Hi! Time for the post-ly author's ramble. First, I am sososo sorry that this took so long. School has been so brutal, but it's over now. So yay. :) Second, thank you guys for reviewing! You're wonderful. Shout out to LenaLove, for reviewing on the majority of my chapters.**

**I listened to "Awake My Soul" by Mumford and Sons and "There's No Way Good Way To Say I'm Leaving You" by The Slow Club as I wrote.**

**Now onto the chapter!**

Why didn't I say it?

She said it first; isn't that was I was waiting for?

_Just say it now. She's probably asleep. She won't even hear you._

It felt like my throat was coated in plaster.

Why can't I just fucking say it?

3 words. 8 letters.

_JUST OPEN YOUR MOUTH._

I can't. That's the excuse I'll use for now.

_I can't open my mouth, I can't tell her._

_I can't open my mouth, I can't tell her._

I repeat it enough times that I begin to believe that it's actually true.

Why am I so anxious?

Fuck. My palms are sweating. The back of my neck itches. I can't focus on anything.

When was the last time I had a fix? I hadn't even thought of itsince I had seen Kristen yesterday. My parents, though.. they were a trigger. They were why I left London in the first place.

I felt a tiny body nuzzle its way closer to me, her bare skin giving mine an electric shock each time she moved. Our legs were entangled under the askew sheets; her delicate hand was placed gently on my chest. I blink my eyes open, turning my head to see the girl who had fallen asleep beside me.

And, honestly, what I saw made my heart stop.

She was curled up on her side, eyelashes fluttering softly, dark hair strewn around delicate ivory skin, swollen red lips pursed together, as if she were concentrating.

Someone this perfect could not exist. I wanted to reach out, to touch her, as if to prove to myself that this all wasn't a dream.

Only she could distract me from the disease I couldn't seem to shake.

She looked so peaceful. As if she's Snow White, lying paralyzed in a perfect state of sleep.

My eyes were drawn to her neck, and I smiled as I noticed a hickey. Almost immediately the previous night's events came flooding back, my emotions being thrown at me once again at full force.

It was all clear, distinct, beautiful. I remembered the smell of her soft skin, the feeling of her fingernails as they dug into my back, the sound of her moans almost every time I touched her. I closed my eyes again, replaying every moment in my mind. The way her lips parted slightly, her eyes squeezing shut as she was pushed over the edge, her head tipping back, hands pulling at my hair.

I opened my eyes again, forced out of remembrance as I felt Kristen move again. I felt her body tense up for only a moment, her fingers on my chest curling into a fist. She craned her neck up, pressing her face into my neck as she stretched out her legs. I turned my head only enough to press my lips to her temple, arousing a soft hum from her still pursed lips.

"Good morning, love," I mumbled against her hair, my hand reaching around to finally touch the skin I had been craving all morning.

I turned onto my side, my nose nudging hers. She scrunched up her face and I chuckled softly, watching as she fluttered her bright emerald eyes open, squinting lightly in the dim morning light as it seeped through the closed blinds.

"Morning," Her eyes started to close once again, slowly. I shake my head, smirking, my fingers tracing along her shoulder blade.

"We don't have time for sleeping, we have much too much to do." She groaned, turning over onto her stomach, her arms flying up above her head.

"Kristen, I will carry you out of bed," I teased, prodding her side.

"But I'm still so tired."

Her arms reached back to apparently look for the sheets, and as she gripped the edge of the flimsy white fabric my hands shot out and pressed her arms to her sides. Even as her face was pressed against her pillow**,** I saw a smirk trace it's way along her full lips.

With a smile, I placed tiny kisses up her neck, stopping as I reach the back of her ear - my favorite spot.

"Now, love, you have two options," I murmured into her ear, my hands slowly releasing her arms. "Option one, you can voluntarily get up and come eat breakfast." My fingers traced down her back, slowly. She tensed as I traveled along her pelvis, tucking my fingers, lightly touching her inner thigh. I could feel her warmth already.

"Or option two, I can _make_ you get out of bed."

She hummed into the pillow, her hips digging slightly into my hand. I spoke softly against her neck, my teeth grazing along her skin. "I'll take it that you'd like door number two.." She relaxed slowly, yielding as I traced my fingers up and down her thigh, my lips following a pattern across her shoulder.

I could have stayed there forever, really. With her, tangled underneath these sheets, without a single care but for her. But too quickly, Kristen turned her head and looked over my shoulder, catching the red numbers on my nightstand clock. Her eyes went wide and she immediately sat up, holding the white sheets tightly to her chest. I looked to her, confused, as her eyes darted around the room, searching.

"Kristen? Baby, what's wrong?" My eyebrows furrowed as I pushed myself up onto my elbows. She looked over at me, her cheeks flushed, her bottom lips between her teeth.

"I.. my dad doesn't know I'm here.." She hesitated, looking down at her lap before continuing, "and I need to get up." I started at her, not sure what the problem was. After a moment, though, I tried to control the smirk on my lips as I lifted my hands to cover my eyes.

"I won't look, I promise."

"But.." was her timid reply.

"Go on, love," I urged.

I heard a hesitation, a struggle between tangled sheets and long extremities, another hesitation, and finally her tiny, delicate feel padding against the carpeted floor.

"Rob? Where are my clothes?" I sighed quietly, shaking my head.

"Darling, this is foolish. Just let me help you." I started to pull my hands away from my eyes**,** but she came running and threw them back on.

"No, just wait. I'll find something to cover up, then you can help me, okay?" I groaned, falling backwards onto the bed.

"Fine." I smiled softly, hoping that she had caught the sarcasm in my impatient voice. "Can I at least go into the kitchen andget breakfast started?"

She hesitated before responding after a moment, "I guess so." I sighed, smirking as I sat up and began to take my hands away from my eyes again, catching only a flash of ivory before feeling two tiny hands against my eyes.

"Just wait a sec," She slid one hand away, making sure my eyes were shut before taking my hand, leading me stumbling across the room. I heard her going through my dresser before finally shoving a wad of cotton into my hand. "Wear this. You look a little silly walking around like.." I swear I could hear her blush. I just smiled and pulled on the boxers clumsily, not even certain if they were on the right direction. I lifted a hand to her face, feeling around as if I had lost my vision, smiling as a small laugh escapes Kristen's lips. I let my fingers trace along the curve of her nose, across her cheek and to her lips, following the shape of each one before kissing her upper lip softly.

"Don't take too long," I murmured, pulling at her lip tenderly with my teeth, my hands resting on her hips, tugging her closer.

She pulled away first and took my hands from her hips, lacing them with hers before playfully pushing me away. I was still surprised at how strong she was.

"Let me find something to wear." I nodded.

"Yes'm_._" She laughed and turned me around to face the door, her hands almost forceful. I snorted and made my way through the door way, turning around for a split second to see a delicate, beautiful girl hung over my dresser, pouring through the contents.

I paused as I reached the kitchen, my breath catching as I remembered what was in the back of one of the drawers. My heart was pounding furiously and I couldn't think.

I should go back. Make sure she hasn't seen anything.

My palms began to sweat, and I consider this option too many times.

I was hiding this from someone who loved me.

But I couldn't tell her, could I? She would leave me. She would run away, never to see me again. I would lose her. My fists clench and I stalk into the kitchen, coming to stop at a counter.

I can't lose her.

I force my hands to work on gathering cereal boxes from the cabinets, getting every possible juice, muffin, or bagel that she could possibly like.

She won't find it.

She can't find it.

After what felt like hours of my heart pounding and mind racing**,** I heard gentle feet dancing down the hallway, a tiny voice humming something I had never heard. I turned around, watching my little dancer make her way to me, her feet following circles and patterns, her arms raising and falling so delicately.

God, she's so beautiful, even when wearing my shirt.

I blinked, my mind going blank.

My shirt.

I see the familiar folds of my blue button down falling hugely over her thin frame, the hem hardly passing her hips. When she lifts her arms**,** I see the thin lace of her panties covering her and I can't help myself as I drop the cream cheese on the counter and walk over to her, my arms catching her mid-spin. Her eyes are wide as she looks up at me, the emerald shining in pure innocence. I motion to her outfit of choice with an incredulous face.

"Kristen.." I groan, giving into my inhibitions and press my lips impatiently to hers, my arms tightening around her and pulling her close to me. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She blinked, eyes wide, until a tiny smile crossed her lips and she looked away. I took her hand in mine and lifted our entwined fingers above her head. I spun her once, my eyes devouring her body. I felt my eyes change countenances: awe-struck to lustful. I reached out and grabbed her waist, forcing her to me.

"You are so beautiful." My voice was low, sensual. Desiring. I felt a shiver shock through her body. Then, as she looked up at me, I noticed that her eyes had changed, too, still the perfect emerald, but with a spark of mischief, another of lust. She tipped her hips into my subtly. Her lips took to the corner of my mouth, her tongue tracing over my bottom lip, eliciting a low moan from my mouth.

"Shh.." She purred, a delicate hand finding the side of my neck, lips tracing their way along my jaw. My own hands had traveled slowly down her sides, ending at the hem the blue button down that I was so eager to pull off.

"So much for breakfast.." I mumbled against her neck. She laughed and brought her hands to my hair as her lips locked onto mine. My tongue presses against her lips and slips inside with her submission, teasing and twirling with hers.

"Rob.." she laughs again, the musical sound echoing in my ears. She pulls away, taking my hand in hers and leading me back towards my bedroom, almost running.

I can't help but suppress a laugh as she crawls onto the bed, turning around and sitting and motioning me forward with her finger. I climb onto the bed and kiss her roughly settling myself between her legs, my hardness pressing into her. She moans and tightens her legs around my hips, grinding her wetness against me.

Fuck, I want to be inside her. For the second time in twenty-four hours.

Is that healthy for a relationship?

I couldn't give a damn, then. I pulled at the top buttons of the button down and I let my hand gently massage her breast over the shirt. I moan loudly as I feel her cool hand slip inside my boxers and lightly tease me with her cool fingertips. She pulls her mouth away from mine, turning her head to watch her free hand searching through my nightstand drawer for a condom. My lips are on the soft skin of her neck and I can't think of anything else but her: her taste, her smell, the feeling of her skin against mine. I didn't realize what she was doing until it was too late. I feel her freeze under me. My eyebrows furrow and I pull away to get a better look at her.

"What's wro—"

I can't breathe.

The world has stopped turning and there's nothing I can do to make it start again.

I want to grab what's in her hand and burn it, to erase this moment from our minds.

Especially hers.

Why did she have to find it?

I would have rather the police found it.

Why didn't we just eat breakfast?

This would never had happened.

_If I wasn't addicted in the first place._

She pulled her hand away from me, placing it on my chest and pushing me off of her. I numbly leaned back, my legs somehow finding the ability to stand. She's already stood up by the time I look to the opposite side of my bed, her hands hanging to her side, the bag still in her hand. She was watching me with an unreadable look on her face. I didn't know what to say.

"Kristen," I managed, my voice retracted. I looked down at the edge of the bed, my hand in my hair.

"Why."

It was all she said. But in that one word, her voice cracked. I looked up. Her eyes were threatening with tears; angry pink was thrown onto her cheeks.

"It's..it's my friends.." I mumbled unconvincingly.

Why did I lie?

She knows I'm lying.

I watch her shake her head, her bottom lip trembling.

She drops the bag of white powder onto the bed and walks out the door. My heart takes over and I follow her.

She had picked up her jeans from last night and was buttoning them, my button down hung shapelessly from her shoulders.

She was shuffling around, shoving things into her black bag she had come with last night.

Her phone.

Her charger.

A hat.

I just stood there, in the doorway in a stupor. I had no idea what to do. She was moving around with such force that I was afraid if I touched her she would lash out.

That she would hurt me.

Kristen paused in front of the door. For a moment, time seemed to stop. Only the two of us existed, in mutual silence, in heavy air.

I had to do something.

She can't leave me.

I move to her, putting my hand gently on her shoulder, trying to get her to turn around. She shrugged it away.

"Baby.. I'm so—" She cut me off again, the silence filled with the sound of controlled tears; of controlled emotions. Her voice had to inflection, no tone, when she spoke.

My heart pumped in uncontrollable, unfathomable pain.

"I won't watch you kill yourself."

And she disappeared from my life with a burst of cold air, exactly the opposite of the way that she had come it.

**A/N: Hopefully I'll be posting at least once a week now. Love you all, please review! Tell me what you like, what you don't like, and all of your predictions!**


End file.
